


Expectations and Reality

by wilddragonflying



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Inquisitor Dies, Magic Gone Wrong, Major character death - Freeform, Spoilers, not a happy fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-04 18:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4148454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilddragonflying/pseuds/wilddragonflying
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Solas was wrong about the mark stabilising.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a happy fic. I _am_ considering possibly doing a second chapter where Solas, reunited with his focus, is able to heal and repair the damage his Anchor caused to Elvira... But idk if I'll do it yet.

After the events at the Temple of Mythal, it took everything Elvira had to keep her companions from realising just how much the Anchor was affecting her.

It had stabilized, for a time, after that first failed attempt to seal the Breach, but Elvira suspected that was because the Breach could draw off the excess power. Once the Breach was sealed, however… There was nowhere for the magic to go except into Elvira herself. Each time she used the Anchor, sealed a rift of destroyed a demon, the energy she took into the Anchor wasn’t dispersed, but collected. It was eating away inside of her, but how could she let anyone know what was happening to her? How could she tell them that there was a very real possibility that she would die, crumple from the magic eating her alive before she could face Corypheus the last time? They needed her to be their Inquisitor, their Herald of Andraste-- they needed her to be their savior.

And she needed to save them.

Elvira had always been a loner, until she’d joined her first mercenary band. Then, she became clannish-- trusting no one outside of her company, and even they were treated with suspicion for the longest time, until they proved themselves worthy of trust. Her companions in the Inquisition, however-- they’d been easy to open up to, even Bull, wary of Vashoth and Tal-Vashoth as he was. She would trust them with her life.

But then there was Josephine.

Ah, Josephine-- Lady Montilyet, the one who brought her House back into the trade business, bringing it back to prosperity. Elvira had been wary of her, as she was of all nobles-- poncy assholes who only wanted mercenaries to do their dirty work-- but Josephine was guileless, for the most part. She was cunning and quick in negotiations, and no one could resist her there, but personally? When you spoke to her, face-to-face, outside of a meeting room? She was sweet, innocent in many ways-- and so open, easy to read as the page of a book. 

Elvira, fool that she was, had fallen in love with Josephine. Had helped her rebuild her family’s trading business, had insisted to Leliana that she was in earnest, that she truly cared for Josephine and was playing no game with the ambassador’s heart. She still smiled, remembering their first kiss. And after Halamshiral and Adamant and the Fade, she’d fought a nobleman for Josephine’s hand-- not that she’d needed the sword he’d given her, mage that she was, but in order to keep with his traditions, she would fight with the sword. She knew how to, she just didn’t like close-quarter combat. She liked being able to control the battlefield. She’d professed her love to Josephine herself for the first time in front of the gathered crowd, had been elated when Josephine returned it. Had thought then that nothing would ever make the Qunari regret falling in love with this lovely, fragile creature.

But now-- Now Elvira regretted it. She was going to die, sooner than she’d ever planned or dared to hope. If she was lucky, she would defeat Corypheus, leave the Inquisition’s purpose fulfilled. But Josephine? She would be devastated-- Elvira’s death might very well kill her, too, despite the support of their friends.

* * *

Elvira carried on as best she could, waved off her companions’ worries with excuses of the long campaign finally catching up to her, and slept fitfully each night, woken by the magic burning and itching and clawing beneath her skin, clawing its way into the Fade with her and tormenting her there, as well. Even time spent with Josephine could no longer distract Elvira from the pain, and she took every opportunity to spend time with her Lady Ambassador, creating memories that would hopefully shore Josephine against the pain that awaited her.

They spent many evenings together in Elvira’s quarters, barely speaking beyond the occasional murmur, but always touching, always seeking reassurance that the other was there. Several times they fell asleep on Elvira’s bed, and Elvira would always wake first, drawn from her dreams by the pain that came from every part of her body as she so often was, now, only to find Josephine on her side, facing Elvira, and their hands clasped between them. Elvira would smile, always sadly, and gently undo Josephine’s bun, letting the Antivan’s hair flow loose about her shoulders, to fan across the pillow as Elvira gently ran her fingers through it, stocking up on all the good memories that she could. 

In the end, it was almost a relief when Corypheus re-opened the Breach. Her mark pulsed, releasing the energy it had contained and built up in the past months, and she almost collapsed upon the floor. For this last fight, it seemed, she would be able to stand tall against the red and dark that threatened Thedas. 

She would be their light, their Herald, one last time.

* * *

Josephine clung to her as she left, begging Elvira to promise her to return, but Elvira knew she couldn’t promise that. All she could promise was to love Josephine as long as she lived, but that, for once, wasn’t enough to satisfy the diplomat, and Elvira’s heart clenched at the sheen of tears in Josephine’s eyes as she pulled away. 

”I love you, kadan,” Elvira said, and watched as Josephine’s eyes widened-- she was no fool, and she knew what the word meant.

The skin over her throat moved as she swallowed, and Josephine pressed forward for one last kiss, whispering, “And I, you, my lady.” Elvira touched their foreheads together, drawing in a deep breath for courage before she broke away, striding towards the gates of Skyhold where her companions waited, Bull holding her mount’s reins.

She wasn’t strong enough to keep from looking back. The image she carried into battle was Josephine taking a step towards her, expression broken and impossibly hopeful.

* * *

”Dumat! Ancient ones! If you exist, if you ever truly existed, then aid me no--”

With one push of her will, Elvira pulled the focus to her hand, tossing it up to seal the Breach; it dropped to the ground behind her as she stalked towards the creature in front of her. “Your gods would never support a monster like you,” she said coldly. “Especially not one who sought to usurp them. If you wanted into the Fade so badly, then let me help you.” 

She could feel Corypheus’s energy-- the energy of thousands of years in the Fade, the energy of the first Darkspawn, the energy that created red lyrium-- surging into her mark as she opened the rift inside of him; without the Breach to siphon it off, it had nowhere to go. Elvira’s already weakened body could hold it only long enough to seal the rift, destroying Corypheus and the threat he posed.

As the land fell from the sky, Elvira collapsed to it, her hand resting against the orb.

As her world went black, a smile crossed her face, the last image she saw that of Josephine’s smile as they danced in the Winter Palace.

* * *

Josephine, Leliana, and Cullen had stayed behind in Skyhold-- Leliana to comfort and support Josephine, and Cullen to reassure the civilians left behind. Nothing worked to comfort Josephine, however-- and nothing would until she saw her lover riding through the gates, safe and sound.

When the horn blew, announcing the Inquisitor’s return, Josephine flew to the landing of the stairs from Skyhold’s main hall, waiting anxiously to see Elvira’s face-- only for her hands to fly to her mouth, smothering the gasp that threatened to break through at the sight of the pallet carried by Elvira’s companions.

The Qunari was laid upon her back, staff clasped in her hands, her eyes closed. Her chest didn’t rise, nor did it fall-- and the somber expression shared across their faces confirmed Josephine’s worst fears.

” _No_ ,” Josephine whispered, sinking to her knees and not caring about the damage done to the fabric. “No, no, _no!_ ”

The fallen Herald was carried to the courtyard, her pallet lowered to the ground, and Josephine stumbled down the steps, kept from falling on her face by Leliana at her side. As she approached the still form, she kept expecting Elvira’s eyes to flutter open, for her to groan and wake, but she never did. Josephine fell to her knees again, reaching for her heart, but the skin was already going cold, and there was no pulse.

Skyhold was filled with the cries of mourning, when it should have been filled with celebration.


	2. Fix-It Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you like your angst, don't read this chapter-- this is a fix-it for the first chapter.

” _Get out of my way!_ ”

The snarl was enough to startle Josephine, and she looked over her shoulder to see Solas pushing and shoving his way through the gathered crowd, an orb-- no, _the_ orb-- balanced on one hand, his entire body framed in a light green glow. “Solas, what--”

”The magic that destroyed her was mine, from long ago-- I can heal her,” he said bluntly. “But I must hurry, else her spirit will cross over before her body is repaired. Now, everyone _back away._ ”

Josephine stared at him for a moment, but then snapped to action-- he could heal her, he could bring her back. “You heard him,” she snapped out. “Everyone get back!” Josephine ignored her own orders, staying by Solas and Elvira’s side, but Solas didn’t protest, instead getting straight to work. A green light covered his hands, brighter and more intense that the mark upon Elvira’s hand had ever been, and Solas began moving his hands over Elvira’s body, murmuring under his breath in a language Josephine didn’t recognize.

Wherever Solas’s hands moved, tendrils of the green light lingered, sinking into Elvira’s skin after a moment or two. Josephine had no idea how long they stayed like that, the two of them kneeling over their Inquisitor’s body, only that Sola sbroke the trance they’d fallen into by grabbing her hands and placing them on Elvira’s chest. “Anchor her,” he ordered. “Think of every memory, every feeling you have of and for her-- you must be her guiding light, to coax her spirit back into the body it has vacated.”

Josephine froze in shock, but swallowed, nodding in determination before closing her eyes and allowing herself to run through the memories she and Elvira had made, the good and the bad-- and when she’d run through all of them, she found herself thinking, over and over, _I love you, I love you-- don’t leave me. Dear heart, don’t leave me._

Another Age passed before her thoughts were broken by Elvira sucking in a breath of air with a gasp, then coughing it out, rolling onto her side and bracing herself on one elbow. “Holy _fucking_ shit,” the Qunari rasped, coughing again. “What the _hell_ happened?”

”Thank the Maker,” Josephine sobbed, throwing herself upon the startled Qunari and wrapping the larger woman in her arms. “You were _dead_ , you were actually dead--”

Elvira had a bewildered expression upon her face, but she didn’t hesitate to return Josephine’s embrace, looking to Solas for an explanation. The elf tilted his head. “Yes-- you were dead. The Anchor… Your body could not handle the power of Corypheus’s death, and your spirit left your body. Luckily, Lady Josephine was able to coax you back after I repaired your body.”

Elvira’s eyes narrowed, and she studied Solas intently, her gaze flickering to the orb lying beside him before her expression cleared in understanding. “Don’t you even think about leaving,” she said, voice low enough that only he and Josephine could hear her. “I would speak to you about this.” Solas sighed, but nodded in agreement, and Elvira turned her attention back to the still-shaking woman in her lap. “Josie, kadan-- I’m here. I’m alive.”

”But you _weren’t_ ,” Josephine wailed, foregoing all decorum in favor of letting her emotions out. “You had no heartbeat, you were _dead_ \--”

”I’m not anymore,” Elvira said, shifting so she could use one hand to lift Josephine’s chin to press a soft, reassuring kiss to her lips. “I’m alive, now, thanks to you. I love you.”

Josephine sniffed, returning the kiss before burrowing closer to Elvira. “I love you, too,” she muttered, voice thick from tears.

Elvira glanced up to see the rest of Skyhold watching them, and she offered her companions a wan smile. “Well, this has been an exciting day, hasn’t it?”

Bull huffed out a laugh. “‘Exciting’ isn’t the word I’d use,” he said.

”Stressful, more like,” Dorian agreed. “I need some wine.”

Elvira chuckled. “I think we all do. Come on, everyone-- Corypheus is dead, and I’m not. Let’s celebrate.”


End file.
